


Build-An-Agent

by itsfaberrytaboo (orphan_account)



Series: Color the Sky [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Established Relationship, F/F, Natasha Needs a Hug, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:17:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/itsfaberrytaboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't do Build-a-Bear, Maria."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Build-An-Agent

“You want me to go _where_?”

Maria sighs. “One of the agents has a daughter turning three next week. And I am _trying_ to be a more hands-on director and actually interact with my people. Tony says he’s not doing the party circuit anymore, something about a kid peeing in his suit at the last one.”

She has to stop, the laugh nearly doubling her over and causing her to wheeze. Maria joins her, hooking her arm through Natasha’s before they round the corner towards her office, and Natasha smiles at her.

“Anyway I can’t show up at a party without a gift, so _please_ , Nat.”

“I don’t do Build-a-Bear, Maria,” she points out.

“Have you ever been?”

She gives Maria a look. It isn’t as if Natasha’s childhood ever afforded her the chance to do anything that might remotely be considered fun. Or child-like.

The crayons that she found three months ago in Russia are worn-down to stubs. There’s a cardboard chest decorated with Captain America stickers under her bed, filled almost to spilling over with drawings, and coloring sheets hastily printed out at the library just down the street from SHIELD headquarters.

She likes pictures of houses, Natasha has discovered. Big houses with windows full of light; green grass outside and lots of flowers. Sometimes she’ll draw a dog in its house, or next to its bowl. A cat in the window, peering out. She’d like to have a cat someday, Natasha thinks.

Some days Natasha pulls out the crayons as soon as she gets back to her apartment in the Tower. She’s taken to stretching out on the floor rather than the bed; it makes pressing down on the paper easier. Other times she gets up in the middle of the night after having wrestled her own mind to near exhaustion. She’s not a child; she shouldn’t need to color like she’s a five-year-old.

But she takes out the crayons on nights she can’t sleep, unrolls the paper and inhales the waxy scent. Natasha watches as the glittery streaks smear and fill the lines – and sometimes she colors outside the lines just because she can – and for a while, the weight of being Black Widow eases off.

“All right, maybe that was a bad way to ask, sorry,” Maria is saying, holding the door of her office open to her girlfriend. She reaches out and slips a finger in Natasha’s belt; she rolls her eyes as Maria tugs her close, inside the office with the door closing behind them.

“Please?” she whispers, her lips inches from Natasha’s.

Natasha huffs. “You play dirty, Hill.” She captures Maria in a kiss anyway.

They’re serious, now. Flirtatious glances and first dates have given way to lingering kisses, to making love into the early hours of the morning. Last night Natasha woke up with the first rays of the sun and looked over at Maria, asleep with a peaceful look on her face, and she couldn’t believe her luck. Most of the time, she still can’t.

It's not all Hallmark movies and romantic moments, though. Maria works too damn hard and that frustrates Natasha; _she_ sometimes gets trapped in the past and convinces herself that she’s not worthy of the taller woman with dark hair and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen, and _that_ frustrates Maria. There was a one-week stretch where they’d refused to talk to each other, over something thoroughly stupid like Natasha not wanting to go out to dinner the night after a mission. The standoff had only ended when Tony had somehow overridden all of Maria’s security measures (which, since he created them, really wasn’t that difficult of a task), and locked her and Natasha together in her office overnight.

Steve had walked in the next morning to go over an op with the director, only to find Maria and Natasha curled up together on the floor behind her desk, 100% asleep and smiling, and 100% naked.

“You’re making it really hard for me to maintain my innocence!” he said to Natasha later, and she’d only smirked.

“I do, I really do,” Maria agrees, soft and low against Natasha’s mouth. Her thumbs are stroking lightly against Natasha’s waist, and she shivers. “But if it means you’ll go with me, I’ll play as dirty as I have to.”

“Maybe I should hold out then,” Natasha counters, mostly because seeing how dirty Maria Hill can get is a really enticing offer. And then there’s that other stupid part of her that was going to go from the very beginning anyway, because Maria asked her and Natasha’s mostly helpless to tell her no, like some lovesick idiot. And Maria knows it, because she’s smiling at her, and whatever this feeling is that Natasha gets every time she sees that blooms warm and strong in her chest.

“Maybe I should thank you,” Maria says, her hands moving to start unfastening that belt, and really, that’s the best idea Natasha’s heard all day.

That weekend Maria drives to a mall two hours from HQ; she and Natasha haven’t had much alone time lately and somehow they’ve both figured out that it’s in the car, on a drive, when they can actually _talk_ , uninhibited and unguarded. Maria is always casual, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on Natasha’s knee. Natasha, in a pair of jeans and a hoodie pulled up, is relaxed, at least until Maria pulls the car into a parking spot in front of the mall.

She’s not really mall material.

Still, she gets out of the car anyway, making a face at the building in front of her, which inspires a laugh from Maria.

“You look like you’re headed to prison.”

“You could be right,” Natasha says, and grins in surprise when Maria takes her hand. One of the things that she’s learned about Maria is that Maria doesn’t really give a damn who knows that she’s dating Natasha, who sees her or what they might say. Both of them are cognizant that their relationship might put the other in a little bit more danger, and so it’s usually Natasha who glances over her shoulder to make sure they’re not being followed.

But Commander Maria Hill is director of SHIELD, and even in just jeans and a tee-shirt she seems to have a presence that towers over anyone else. If anyone stares at them as they walk into the mall, or makes comments under their breath, Natasha doesn’t notice. It’s strange that the young woman who has never truly felt safe, who has always felt that her life was meant to be lived on the run, might actually be comfortable walking in public, with Maria’s hand in hers.

The Build-a-Bear store is _weird_ , there’s no other word for it, to Natasha. The bright yellow and blue hurts her eyes, and it’s a little unsettling to see bins full of unstuffed plushie carcasses. It makes her smile, though, to see the tiny girls and boys who meander through the store with their parents, to hear them making their choices with shouts of happy excitement. Something tugs at Natasha, an ache that she feels every now and then just before she pulls out the crayons and sets to work coloring a house, or a unicorn, or a fairy.

She pushes it down, and it’s replaced by an emptiness because Maria has let go of her hand. As free as they are with their affection, as accepting as most people and places are now, both of them don’t want to be the cause of parents having to explain to their children just what their relationship is. It sucks, but it’s how things work for them right now, and Natasha contents herself with walking behind Maria, nearly bumping into her when her girlfriend stops in front of one of the bins.

“How about a bunny?” she says, holding up a light brown one with floppy ears.

“Does she like bunnies?”

“I have no idea what she likes,” Maria admits with a shrug. “But it’s a stuffed animal. Don’t most little kids like stuffed animals?”

Natasha reaches out her hand, runs a finger along the bunny’s ear. It’s soft; she rubs it between her thumb and forefinger and she thinks that maybe she wouldn’t have minded being handcuffed to a bed, if she could have had a bunny to cuddle.

“I think it’s a good choice.”

Maria is looking at her a little oddly; Natasha’s hand drops to her side and she clears her throat.

She stands by the entrance to the store and smirks the entire time Maria is jumping up and down, turning around, and doing all of the other things that the Build-a-Bear employee is making her do even though Maria had insisted the bear wasn’t for her. It’s cute, watching the director flush pink with embarrassment, and Natasha brazenly pulls out her phone and takes a picture.

“Hey!” Maria protests.

“I’m so putting this online,” Natasha says, sticking out her tongue.

“Don’t you dare!”

Ten minutes later they leave the store with a little brown bunny in a pink tutu tucked into a blue and white box shaped and decorated like a house. You could even color it, Natasha notes with some envy. Maria shifts the box to her left hand and seizes up Natasha’s own with her right.

“Food before we head home?” she suggests. “The food court’s okay, right?”

Natasha nods. “I could go for some Chinese.”

Maria takes her out to fancy restaurants once every two weeks, to places that have entrees Natasha doesn’t even know how to pronounce, wines that are so expensive she insists Maria can’t possibly afford them. Maria always shuts her up with a glance. Natasha learns that Maria likes to buy her things, even though Natasha has repeatedly told her that she doesn’t _have_ to. She’s just as content to eat fast food as she is to eat at some French place, and she doesn’t _need_ anything to know that Maria, well… Maria loves her. They haven’t _said_ it yet, but they both know how the other feels. Maria knows because Natasha gives massages after a particularly rough day and snuggles impossibly close while they watch television. Natasha knows because Maria will sometimes have dinner waiting for her when she gets back from an op, and when she’s _on_ an op and opens her bag to retrieve something she needs, she’ll find a note or a card tucked inside. Maria always says she’s not a romantic; Natasha always punches her in the shoulder because there’s no one, to her, as romantic as her girlfriend.

It should make her nervous. She’s not supposed to _do_ relationships. And yeah, sometimes it does terrify Natasha just how much she likes this, just how much she wants this, and it makes her fight-or-flight mode kick in to the point that once or twice she’s considered ending it. Both times she’s somehow woken up with her face pressed into Maria, in her bed, and Maria has been awake, likely thinking of all the work she has to do as she runs her fingers through Natasha’s hair and presses kisses to the top of her head.

Being single is overrated, Natasha decides just before she falls back to sleep.

The food court is crowded, which is normal for a Saturday afternoon. Still, it makes Natasha a bit nervous and after she and Maria retrieve their lunch she scoots her chair so that the two of them are sat closer together.

Maria flashes her a smile. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Natasha says with a cocked eyebrow. “That’s a new one.”

Maria has called her things before. Honey. Baby. Asshole, when she’s feeling particularly sarcastic or irritated. Sweetheart, though, that’s different.

“Yeah, guess that’s pretty high on the sap meter. Sorry.”

“No, no sorry,” Natasha hastens to say. “I actually kind of like it.”

They’re sat so close together Maria’s arm is lightly brushing hers. The touch, along with the word, the term of endearment, has made Natasha not worry about the crowds, has made the constant grind of ops and strategy and misplaced memory slow in Natasha’s head. It’s replaced with a kind of fuzziness, an out-of-focus feeling that isn’t unpleasant.

She feels… younger.

Sweetheart.

She likes it.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After lunch they decide to leave, to make the drive back home. Natasha knows Maria hates to be away from work too long, even on the weekends. There’s too much to be done to rebuild SHIELD. She doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing left for them to do at the mall and besides, at least if they’re back at the Tower Natasha can hover nearby while Maria works, making sure she stops for snacks or dinner, or just to rest her eyes.

They have to pass by Build-a-Bear on their way out, and Natasha stops a few feet away to glance back at it. She likes the bright blue and yellow after all, she decides. It’s cheery, and the kids darting back and forth make her smile again. This is how children should always be, she thinks. Shouting with laughter and anticipation.

Not being taught to kill.

“Hey, Nat.”

She looks at Maria. “Ready to go?”

Maria looks at the shop, then back at her. “You should get one.”

“What?”

“A bear. Or a bunny, a cat. Whatever you want.”

Natasha stares at her, stunned. “You want me to get a stuffed animal?”

“Well, sure, why not?”

“I don’t _need_ a bear. Or a cat. Or whatever. A _toy_.”

It comes out a little more hotly than she’d intended, because suddenly the desire to have just that threatens to overwhelm Natasha. Maria doesn’t react to the tone, either because she doesn’t notice or she chooses not to. Instead she squeezes Natasha’s hand, tugging her towards the entrance to the store.

“C’mon,” she says. “Maybe you don’t need one but every kid deserves a stuffed animal. It’ll be fun.”

_Every kid deserves a stuffed animal._

Her mind barely has enough time to register that statement before Natasha once again finds herself in front of the bins of toys waiting to be stuffed. She looks at Maria dubiously.

“Are you sure?”

Maria’s eyes are gentle, an expression that Natasha is slowly realizing is one of her favorites.

“Get whatever you want, sweetheart.”

She walks slowly down the rows, Maria staying just behind, not close enough to be nosy, but close enough that Natasha is still comforted by the knowledge that she is there. Natasha considers a cat, a black and white one with a pink nose and cute whiskers, but towards the end of the bins her attention is caught by something else.

A bear, its fur soft and dark. Natasha reaches in, picks it up, turns it over in her hands. It’s a bit on the smaller size, but its paws are huge and his smile actually looks a little sarcastic. Then again he isn’t stuffed and maybe it’s just a little lopsided, but Natasha turns to Maria and holds him up anyway.

“What do you think?”

“I think he’s perfect. Very you.”

She rolls her eyes, because Natasha isn’t exactly sure how a teddy bear can be _her_. But that’s the one she wants, even if she makes her way up to the smiling employee with a little bit of trepidation, because she’s an _adult_ getting a _toy_. And she can’t even say that it isn’t for her, because she doesn’t really feel like lying. Not this time.

“So is this guy gonna be your new friend?” he asks Natasha, and she nods slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get him all filled up then.”

She watches as the stuffing fills out the bear, and she grins a little when she sees that yep, his smile _is_ sarcastic, and she knows that it’s perfect. The worker hands him back and Natasha squishes the bear in her hands.

“A bit more?” she asks, and then it’s just right.

“Time to give him some heart!” The employee is cheerful, maybe a bit too much. Maybe he’s trying to make Natasha feel less embarrassed, but it’s not really working. She knows her cheeks are red.

“Do you want to jump up and down or turn around?”

She looks at the fabric heart in her hand. “Uh… jump up and down.”

She does it, three times, and feels like an idiot. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Maria watching her, looking at her with something in her eyes Natasha can’t quite read.

She really wants the waxed wooden floor to open and swallow her up, but Natasha follows each instruction anyway.

“Kiss the heart so he’ll always know you love him. All right, put it to your forehead so he’ll be super smart. Rub it on your hair so he’ll never have a bad fur day.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow at that one.

She rejoins Maria over by the racks of clothes and accessories. Maria slips an arm around her waist and briefly pulls Natasha to her.

“Did you rub it on your butt so he’ll be a smartass?” she jokes low into her ear.

Natasha snorts. “No, if I rubbed it on my butt you’d never take your eyes off my _bear_.”

“You’re probably right.” Maria winks at her, and Natasha chuckles.

It doesn’t take long for Natasha to decide on a smart black suit and tie for the bear. She considers the shoes, but Maria shakes her head.

“He’d be kind of hard to snuggle with shoes on.”

She wants to tell Maria that she doesn’t plan on _snuggling_ the bear. He’s just going to sit on her shelf in the bedroom. Maybe. Go with her on an op. Maybe. Or she’ll just keep him on the bed. Maybe.

There’s a clearance bin near the cash register, full of things like bows and bracelets. Natasha rifles idly through; her gaze catches something small and dark and her mouth drops open a little when she brings up a stretchy black eyepatch.

“Hey, I like that,” Maria says, and Natasha has to agree.

She dresses the dark bear with the big paws slowly in his suit, and slips the patch over his left eye. The bear grins sardonically at her, and Natasha can’t help but grin back.

“What do you think?” she says to Maria as she holds him up to her, still a little nervous about the fact that she is a grown woman and she has just made herself a teddy bear.

“I think we should take him home.”

Maria puts the bunny and her box into the trunk of the car; Natasha moves to put her own box alongside but she hesitates. She wants to hold him, to feel the softness in her hands and cuddle him. But she puts the box in anyway, and Maria closes the trunk.

They slip inside the car and fasten their seatbelts, but Maria doesn’t make a move to turn the key in the ignition. Instead, she looks at Natasha.

“Hey, do me a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Get your bear, I want to see what he looks like again.”

“You just saw him?” Natasha said.

“Indulge me, woman.”

She rolls her eyes and retrieves the bear from his box inside the trunk. Back in the car, she sticks her tongue out at Maria, impulsively making the bear “wave” at her. Maria actually giggles.

“You know, the resemblance is striking.”

“Yeah, it is.”

She doesn’t say anything about how she misses Fury. It doesn’t need to be said; Natasha is pretty sure Maria misses him almost as much.

Maria starts the car and backs out of the parking lot. Natasha sits the bear on her lap; after a minute or two, her arms wrap around him – loosely.

“Did you name him?”

“Mmhm.”

She doesn’t say anything else; Maria doesn’t press. She reaches out with her right hand and rests it on Natasha’s knee. Natasha smiles, leans her head against the back of the seat, closes her eyes.

“Agent Scruff,” she says, ten miles into the drive.

"Not Nick Furry?"

She grins. "That's kind of too weird for me."

“Agent, huh? I don’t know, I’ll have to talk to him in the morning. Vet him. Make sure he’s a good recruit, that sort of thing.”

It’s all so silly, ridiculous even, but in spite of the fact that she knows Maria is teasing, Natasha feels warm and more content than she has in a long while. She doesn’t feel judged or mocked; she knows that Maria wouldn’t make her feel that way, anyway. After all, getting a bear had been her suggestion.

Still, she doesn’t know about the crayons or the pictures, the coloring sheets and how Natasha climbs out of her bed at midnight sometimes to stretch out on the floor and let herself feel… small. She doesn’t need to know about that, or about how Natasha might just bring Agent Scruff down to the floor with her, next time.

Natasha rubs the bear’s ear between her thumb and forefinger, the motion still soothing, quieting the thoughts of work that are beginning to creep back into her mind.

“I think he’ll meet with your approval, Commander Hill.”

Maria laughs. Natasha leans into her as Maria’s hand leaves her knee and moves to tuck a strand of brilliant red hair behind her ear.

“I think he already has, sweetheart.”


End file.
